250 Years Without You Chapter 1
by Rosetta Di Angelo
Summary: I wondered what it was, drifting around. One bugging question has been ringing in my mind for too long now. "How different?" Dr. Cooper sighed. "About a hundred years different." My jaw dropped open.


The cold air puffed around me as I bundled up in my scarf. The long corridor was poorly lit, showing no ends to this place. But I knew I was headed home. I stared in mild disgust, at the yellowing, bare walls on both sides of me. Slight mold was growing on them, like vines draping down from the ceiling. The constant drip, drip, drip, of this place was enough to drive me mad. I turned around quickly, feeling another's presence. No one. I hurried with my torturous walk, feeling slightly paranoid as I kept glancing over my shoulder. Almost there, almost here. I vainly reminded myself. My piercing scream ripped through the place and echoed off into the distance as I was pinned to the wall. Another cry was soon buried in my throat as I stared at my pursuer. His pale, light blonde hair was slightly damp as they fell onto his forehead. His animalistic eyes bore into mine. And just like prey, I was entranced at the danger. His nostrils flared and he licked his lips. The pain rippled through me, more shock than hurt, as his fangs dropped to the nape of my neck. I tried to struggle, to flee, to run. But they were in vain as they grew feeble, my blood drained out of me. Just end this already. I gritted my teeth at the searing pangs traveling through my body. He stopped for a moment, lifting his head quickly, and froze. Like a rabbit being hunted. He wiped his chin. My blood. He dropped me and was gone. I collapsed to the moist floor and waited in agony. Black dots invaded my vision and I was gone. Faint footsteps sounded at my side but they sounded like thunder. My heavy lids blinked repeatedly to minimize the blur that had settled in. I shielded them as soon as every detail came in focus. The brilliant white of the lab blinded me. I let out a barely audible gasp as my head throbbed. I squeezed my eyes shut as I remembered that night. My hands tightened around the white sheets I was laid down on. Am I alive? Two men in pressed lab coats walked in, one of whom carried a clipboard. He waved a hand in front of my face, studying my pupils. He wrote something down. The other sat down on a chair in the corner of the stark white room. "Can you hear me?" the doctor questioned. I nodded, afraid of how my voice would sound. He reached a hand and tenderly squeezed my shoulder. I cried out in pain. "Good progress," he mumbled. My focus sharpened and I noticed the series of tubes and wires attached to me. All sorts of liquid hung above me, looking full. A question formed in my mind but my mouth was too slow to respond. It came out as a gurgle. "Calm down. Say it slowly. It happens," the wrinkles softened on the doctor's aging face. "Where...am I," I paused, feeling the soreness of my body. "Safe," he answered, resting a gentle hand on my forearm. "Like, where? The hospital?" I asked. "You're in our headquarters. Well, the infirmary part." "Headquarters?" I wondered if this was a government involved sick joke. He leaned in and I noticed his tag read 'Dr. Cooper'. "You're not in the world you used to remember. Things are different now." "Yeah obviously." I'm glad I didn't lose my attitude. He chuckled then wrote something else down. I hope it's 'haven't lost all brain cells'. "Do you remember anything about what happened?" I pretended to rack my mind. "Um. Nope," sarcasm dripped from my mouth. "Really?" Dr. Cooper's wrinkled deepened. How does this guy live? "I remember," I snapped, trying to move my legs so I could get off the bed. My knees gave out below me as I tumbled to the white tile floor. All the tubes and suctions ripped off me. Dr. Cooper immediately rushed over, lending me a hand. I gulped hard and tried to stand up. I must've been in comma for pretty long to make my muscles work this way. Scratch that, I have no muscles. Which meant I was skinnier than before which means I was probably a skeleton? Sickly looking. Surprisingly, I wasn't hungry at all. More revived actually. I wrapped my arms around Dr. Cooper's and hoisted myself up. "Let's go for a walk then," he directed me to the door, handing me a pair of crutches. I took them and immediately felt comfortable with it. My mind played back the night. Me, pinned against the wall, and a person, sucking my neck. I shuddered. "Was that all real? You know, that vampire kid?" I joked half-heartedly. However, Dr. Cooper looked dead serious, no glint in his dark eyes. "Wait. Was that real?" I choked on my invisible cookie. His mouth stayed shut. "Does that mean, I'm, I'm…I'm one of them?" I stuttered, feeling my eyes pop out of my head. "Not exactly no," he said grimly. We passed a giant aquarium full of giant octopus. They bubbled around, swimming happily with their tentacles billowing. I was distracted for a moment by the shining rays emitted through the exotic colored water. "What do you mean 'not exactly'" I did bunny ear quotes. "Let's just say you're not the same," he shrugged. "Not the same. How different?" I sighed in frustration. It was harder to get information out of this man than to get apple juice out of lemons. "A lot," he put emphasis on 'a lot'. I just clicked my tongue. "Where are my parents? Big brother? Anyone? They have to get me out of here," I tapped one of my crutches impatiently, hoping I would get better answers out of them. Dr. Cooper stopped breathing for a second. I smelled the anguish coming out of him. I don't know how I did it but it's like how horses smell your fear. Realization crashed over me. "They're not..." I faltered, my voice cracked. "They're gone?" I felt the truth sink into my shriveled heart. "They're gone." I repeated, sure of the reaction on his face. I felt a horrible clenching in my heart and I gasped in pain. They can't be. "I'm sorry Rosetta. But they died a nice peaceful death. I'm sure," he tried to calm my erratic breathing. I felt light headed and my crutches dropped by my side. A couple other people in lab coats stared. One of them was smart enough to grab an inhaler for me. I weakly grabbed it and started huffing and puffing. "When?" I felt the whoosh go to my head. Dr. Cooper gave me a pity-filled look. "They're gone. There's nothing you can do. Just let it be. Let life live through each of us. And it will leave us. But it will leave us with the beautiful memories created by the love around us. One day, you will leave prints in people's hearts and they will mourn over you. But would you want them to? No. You'd want them to cherish the thought of you. So be happy they finally got a rest." I nodded, clutching the inhaler. I slipped it into my pocket. We passed a grotesque room with people lined up. It was like surgery, yet it wasn't. Three bodies were lined up. Yet they seem lifeless. Dead. I shuddered as a woman with turquoise hair removed a stomach. I gagged as I saw all the mucus dripping off of it. Dr. Cooper had an amused glint in his eyes. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all. "Can I get discharged?" my voice had way too much hope in it. I knew the answer before he said it. "No. You're not ready yet." "So when can I...?" "Time will tell," he said wistfully. I rolled my eyes at all the cheesy lines old guys tend to say. Like it makes them so wise. Makes them sound washed out. Fake. Washed out. How long has it been since I've heard a truthful answer? Not beauty pageant answers. Not about saving world hunger, war and all that crap. No, something from the heart. Like wanting to eat a whole cake. Just by yourself. No sharing. We wandered back to my room. My mind was bursting. My mom, my dad, my brother… They're all gone now. And me, all alone in this world. No place to go but here. This creepy, mastermind lab. I took a shuddery breath and climbed on the bed, tucking the pressed sheets up to my chin. I averted my gaze away as I felt the needles being re-poked into my skin. I gazed up at the sac of thick dark liquid above me. I wondered what it was, drifting around. One bugging question has been ringing in my mind for too long now. "How different?" Dr. Cooper sighed. "About a hundred years different." My jaw dropped open.


End file.
